How can you be blue when you've a little finger.
Outside my window, Ohio State-ers are tailgating: singing out their mid-day drunken joy into the crystal blue sky. They seem so happy, so excited to be here. I wonder if I have anything I can throw at them.
I don't think I need to explain how long this week has been. I'm sure you all understand, even if you've never experienced a Tech Week personally. I've created my own trick of dividing the day into one hour increments with certain goals to attain during each segment. I catch fifteen minutes here or there to do my homework, but alas, that's fallen by the wayside. My waking hours, which seem to be numbering more and more each day, are a whirl of class and the mailroom and yoga and Assassins and homework. I haven't been home and not sleeping for longer than a two hour stretch since last week. A mental breakdown is impending and inevitable.
I love it.
I love the frenzy. I love the uncertainty. The feeling that maybe this time I'll fail, but knowing I won't let that happen. I make it work. That's just what I do. Sure, I haven't done laundry since getting school. Sure, a structured meal schedule seems like an illusion of a dreamer. And sure, I've not seen my roommate for more than ten minutes in more days than I count.
The feeling of accomplishment makes up for it all.
Still, through all of it, I'm still finding most of my classes fascinating (with the exception of Chemistry). Early Western Civilization, the class I was worried I would hate, has been amazing every class. Reading the Bible as a cultural and historical document rather than sacred religious text is something I've always wanted to do, and the insight I have gained makes me delighted. Social Policy is wonderful, as well. With the impending election, there is something to discuss and debate every class, so we have yet to have a boring session. Micro is, just like Macro, so damned logical that I can't find it in me to hate it yet. Chemistry, though, is a different story. Freshman are still in their grace period (where they have yet to join organizations and are still assimilating, so all they have to do with their time is study or play), so the professor sees no problem giving a midterm on Monday.
This Monday. As in day after strike.
I'll figure it out. I'm not going to worry.
Thursday night was the Tilly and the Wall/Now It's Overhead/Rilo Kiley concert. (Paul, I drove there just fine. It was actually fun. And Concert Kid's dad had no problem driving there either.) First of all, I'd like to say the plight of indie music makes me sad. While I'm glad the band is gaining success, Rilo Kiley's pseudo-mainstream move makes me want to curl up and cry. I mean, it is one thing to tell all your best friends about bands you love and have them enjoy them too, but it's something else entirely to open up Time Magazine or Rolling Stone and see that same band being touted as the next big thing. Despite my feeling of helpless sinking and identity loss, RK put on an amazing show, per usual. The use of a string section really added to their music, and their presence is still the best I've seen in a band. As Jeff (who joined me) pointed out, their musicianship has grown by leaps and bounds in the past few years. In comparison to my first RK concert a few summers ago, the improvement is amazing.
Tilly and the Wall. What can I say? I have never seen a band that seems to have as much fun on stage as the Tillies. They just say to hell with being accurate all the time, and instead they just enjoy themselves, and their show is the better for it. It makes you want to dance and sing along, and I did just that. Their fan base has definitely grown since last I saw them, which was good in their case, as their new fans maintain their indie integrity, unlike the newbie fans of RK.
Damn me and my elitism. But let me tell you, were you there, you would have wanted to hit the virgin fans as well. Well, not all of them. Just the ones in front of me to be particular. Someone must have forgotten to tell them that you do not wear the shirt of the band you are going to go see unless you are at a boy band show. These girls had on handmade shirts with "Rilo Kiley" on the front, and the back bore a pictorial representation of a song lyric. One had a picture of a map of Mexico with the words "Mexico can F_ucking Wait" emblazoned over it. (yes, the underscore was there. I'm not doing that for censorship reasons). The other was of a car driving down the road into the sunset. Next to the road was a sign saying "PROMISED LAND 16 Miles" and out of the car came a speech box with the words, "I'm doing the best I can" in it. When I told Eric about this, he said, "clever," to which I agree, but damn man. If you are going to do something like that, you can at least be ironic about it and know more than just the songs off the new album. Pardon the rant.
Well, tonight is closing night of Assassins. I saw it all the way through in sequence for the first time last night and I was shocked. It was phenomenal. Powerful. And in a small venue like Shanley Pavilion (Where Good Theatre goes to Die) it's so intimate and in your face that it's impossible to escape from the message. You can't detach yourself from it like you can in bigger halls. I'm proud to be part of this, especially after the disaster that was Caucasian Chalk Circle (which is now officially the worst production in NU history. woot.)
Once Assassins closes, I'll be taking some time off from theatre. Rather than propping, I'll be assisting with costumes for this year's Dolphin Show: How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. Then I will be propping JTE's production of Jesus Christ Superstar. I may also do a little work on The Last Five Years {(Thanks Aaron) (!!! Jamie is over and Jamie is gone....such an amazing soundtrack.) In the Spring I'll probably work on some little production. I've yet to decide, but I found out a few days ago that Laura and I are considered rare commodities (people who don't mind doing props), and a few productions have been fighting to get us. I feel loved.
Now time to read Nickel and Dimed. Expect me to be appropriately worked up sometime next week and submitting a nice, long political rant. I've had one long overdue.
I don't think I need to explain how long this week has been. I'm sure you all understand, even if you've never experienced a Tech Week personally. I've created my own trick of dividing the day into one hour increments with certain goals to attain during each segment. I catch fifteen minutes here or there to do my homework, but alas, that's fallen by the wayside. My waking hours, which seem to be numbering more and more each day, are a whirl of class and the mailroom and yoga and Assassins and homework. I haven't been home and not sleeping for longer than a two hour stretch since last week. A mental breakdown is impending and inevitable.
I love it.
I love the frenzy. I love the uncertainty. The feeling that maybe this time I'll fail, but knowing I won't let that happen. I make it work. That's just what I do. Sure, I haven't done laundry since getting school. Sure, a structured meal schedule seems like an illusion of a dreamer. And sure, I've not seen my roommate for more than ten minutes in more days than I count.
The feeling of accomplishment makes up for it all.
Still, through all of it, I'm still finding most of my classes fascinating (with the exception of Chemistry). Early Western Civilization, the class I was worried I would hate, has been amazing every class. Reading the Bible as a cultural and historical document rather than sacred religious text is something I've always wanted to do, and the insight I have gained makes me delighted. Social Policy is wonderful, as well. With the impending election, there is something to discuss and debate every class, so we have yet to have a boring session. Micro is, just like Macro, so damned logical that I can't find it in me to hate it yet. Chemistry, though, is a different story. Freshman are still in their grace period (where they have yet to join organizations and are still assimilating, so all they have to do with their time is study or play), so the professor sees no problem giving a midterm on Monday.
This Monday. As in day after strike.
I'll figure it out. I'm not going to worry.
Thursday night was the Tilly and the Wall/Now It's Overhead/Rilo Kiley concert. (Paul, I drove there just fine. It was actually fun. And Concert Kid's dad had no problem driving there either.) First of all, I'd like to say the plight of indie music makes me sad. While I'm glad the band is gaining success, Rilo Kiley's pseudo-mainstream move makes me want to curl up and cry. I mean, it is one thing to tell all your best friends about bands you love and have them enjoy them too, but it's something else entirely to open up Time Magazine or Rolling Stone and see that same band being touted as the next big thing. Despite my feeling of helpless sinking and identity loss, RK put on an amazing show, per usual. The use of a string section really added to their music, and their presence is still the best I've seen in a band. As Jeff (who joined me) pointed out, their musicianship has grown by leaps and bounds in the past few years. In comparison to my first RK concert a few summers ago, the improvement is amazing.
Tilly and the Wall. What can I say? I have never seen a band that seems to have as much fun on stage as the Tillies. They just say to hell with being accurate all the time, and instead they just enjoy themselves, and their show is the better for it. It makes you want to dance and sing along, and I did just that. Their fan base has definitely grown since last I saw them, which was good in their case, as their new fans maintain their indie integrity, unlike the newbie fans of RK.
Damn me and my elitism. But let me tell you, were you there, you would have wanted to hit the virgin fans as well. Well, not all of them. Just the ones in front of me to be particular. Someone must have forgotten to tell them that you do not wear the shirt of the band you are going to go see unless you are at a boy band show. These girls had on handmade shirts with "Rilo Kiley" on the front, and the back bore a pictorial representation of a song lyric. One had a picture of a map of Mexico with the words "Mexico can F_ucking Wait" emblazoned over it. (yes, the underscore was there. I'm not doing that for censorship reasons). The other was of a car driving down the road into the sunset. Next to the road was a sign saying "PROMISED LAND 16 Miles" and out of the car came a speech box with the words, "I'm doing the best I can" in it. When I told Eric about this, he said, "clever," to which I agree, but damn man. If you are going to do something like that, you can at least be ironic about it and know more than just the songs off the new album. Pardon the rant.
Well, tonight is closing night of Assassins. I saw it all the way through in sequence for the first time last night and I was shocked. It was phenomenal. Powerful. And in a small venue like Shanley Pavilion (Where Good Theatre goes to Die) it's so intimate and in your face that it's impossible to escape from the message. You can't detach yourself from it like you can in bigger halls. I'm proud to be part of this, especially after the disaster that was Caucasian Chalk Circle (which is now officially the worst production in NU history. woot.)
Once Assassins closes, I'll be taking some time off from theatre. Rather than propping, I'll be assisting with costumes for this year's Dolphin Show: How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. Then I will be propping JTE's production of Jesus Christ Superstar. I may also do a little work on The Last Five Years {(Thanks Aaron) (!!! Jamie is over and Jamie is gone....such an amazing soundtrack.) In the Spring I'll probably work on some little production. I've yet to decide, but I found out a few days ago that Laura and I are considered rare commodities (people who don't mind doing props), and a few productions have been fighting to get us. I feel loved.
Now time to read Nickel and Dimed. Expect me to be appropriately worked up sometime next week and submitting a nice, long political rant. I've had one long overdue.